


first and last

by wolfchester



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, everything is romantic and sad, i cry over my peggy x steve feels, kind of super cheesy at parts but i don't caaaare, steve "dies" but it's exactly the same in the movie, steve gets the dance he always wanted, this is kind of average but oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I saved it for you.”</p><p> If Steve had gotten to dance with his girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	first and last

**Author's Note:**

> (edit: this is based completely on the mcu ca:tfa. i hadn't read any comics prior to writing this a while ago so yeah!)

 “A week next Saturday at the Stork Club.”

Her voice crackles through the telephone and he can almost feel the smile in her voice.

“You’ve got it.”

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?”

He grins in response, then realises she can’t see him. “You know, I still don’t know how to dance.” 

She laughs quietly. “I’ll show you how. Just be there.”

There’s a pause, and before he can reply, she hangs up the phone. He’s left there inside the telephone box, smiling into a dead receiver like if he just squints hard enough, she will appear beside him.

 

* * *

 

It’s the Saturday of the next week and Steve is sitting on a bar stool at the Stork Club, sipping on a beer and tapping his foot, waiting for the girl to arrive. He’s about to give up when the door jingles and out from the rain steps a woman, jacket pulled tight around her, brown curls flustered and red lipstick smudged. _Beautiful_ , he thinks. 

High-heeled shoes rush over to where he sits. The jacket is deposited on a neighbouring stool and an order for a beer is called. 

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late!” Steve jokes with an open-mouthed grin, echoing Peggy’s words from before. 

She smiles sheepishly. “I’m so sorry, Steve. Traffic was a menace. You know how it is.” 

He laughs and reaches up a hand to brush a stray tendril of hair from her face. “I’m just glad you’re here.” 

Brown eyes stare at him and for the slightest moment he can’t hear anything else, see anyone else, but her. Then the bartender slides Peggy’s jug of beer across and just like that, the moment is gone.

 

* * *

 

One hour and thirty minutes later and Steve’s chest is sore from laughing, and Peggy’s mouth hurts from smiling. 

The band starts playing some song with a good slow beat, and Peggy’s eyes catch his. A whispered question: _“Do you want to dance?”_

The dancefloor is hardly full, so Peggy and Steve have no problem finding a place. She waits for him to hold her but then, with a smile, realises: 

“I forgot that you’ve never danced with a woman before.” She takes his right hand and places it on her waist, slipping her fingers through his left. “And then you just... _dance_.” 

Steve still doesn’t know what that entails, but being with Peggy gives way to confidence, and he pulls her towards him until she’s flush against his chest. She grins up at him.

“That’s it. Now, usually _you’d_ be the one to lead _me_ , but since you’re still not quite sure how, I’ll be the man and you be the woman.” Steve laughs and Peggy blushes as red as her lipstick. “That’s not what I- I mean that you-” 

“Hey, I know what you mean. Now, lead me, kind sir!” Steve says, putting on an accent that sounds not overly like Peggy’s.

She giggles in reply ( _since when has Peggy Carter ever giggled?_ ), then starts to dance. 

Peggy leads him across the floor, one-step, two-step, twirl. One-step, two-step, twirl. After a while, Steve gets the hang of things and begins to lead her, hand firmly at her waist and smile in his eyes. She lets her head rest against his chest, listening to his heart beating. _Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump._

 

* * *

 

He walks her home with his hand in hers, and they’re laughing about something stupid when they finally reach her door. She lets out a breath, an exhale of air that disappears as a grey cloud in the cold night. 

“Thank you, Steve. I had a fun night.” She smile at the ground when he kisses the back of her hand and blushes, feeling like a goddamn teenager again.

“It’s okay. Thank you for teaching me how to dance.” He leans closer, breath against her cheek. It’s like a scene from one of those romantic films you can watch at the cinema, and Peggy wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I guess I found the right partner, after all,” he says and that’s _it_. She tilts her head up and kisses him square on the mouth, surprising the soldier; it’s not long before he reciprocates and his hands are circled around her waist, hers against his chest. 

Tomorrow Steve will go against Schmidt and HYDRA and he might not make it out alive. It’s a given of the work they do, but it doesn’t make Peggy any less worried about him. She tries not to think about it though, and Steve’s lips against hers are a welcome distraction.

 

* * *

 

“There’s not gonna be a safe landing, but I can try and force it down.” 

 _No, no, no-_ she thinks. _It won’t work. He’ll die. He’ll be dead and I can’t live with him dead._ “I’ll-I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do.” 

His reply is instant, his breathing hard and words rushed. She can hear the whistling of wind through the receiver that must mean a broken windshield. _Steve, what are you doing? What have we done to you?_ “There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water.” 

She’s crying now. “Please don’t do this. W-we have time. We can work it out.” 

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die.” A pause. She can almost hear his heartbeat against the wind and the static of the radio. She imagines the night before, when they danced together and he held her close, her fingers brushing over that same heartbeat. _You’re too caring, Steve. It’s going to kill you one day. Hell- it_ is _killing you._  

“Peggy, this is my choice.” 

The words he speaks are so firm, so strong that she knows there’s no swaying him now. He has chosen the death of a hero; so honourable. (It still doesn’t make it any less wrong, or unfair, or sad.) 

“Peggy?” 

She wipes the tears from her eyes and clears her throat. “I’m here.” 

“I just wanted to say- thank you for the dance. I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes.” 

“Steve-” 

“No- let me finish. You gave me a chance, Peggy. You had faith in me. You were the first and now, I guess, the last person to do that.” 

“It’s because I love you, don’t you know? I loved that scrawny kid from Brooklyn with boots too big for his feet and I love who you are now.” She can barely get the words out because of the tears, but she can hear the screech of wind against metal and she knows it’s not long now.

“I know that now. Peggy, whatever happens, I love-” 

Static. Silence.

 

_First and last._

 

**end.**

  
  
  



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